


The Grey Warden's Fight

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Kahlia Mahariel [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Darkspawn, F/M, Guys this thing is DARK, Heavy Angst, NSFW, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Life for Kahlia has always been a fight. She had to fight for everything she had when she was still with her Dalish clan. She had to fight for all of Thedas as a Grey Warden. And now she had to fight for her own life and, more importantly, her sanity against abuses no one ever dreamed of.(For an edited version of the same story that does NOT include the non-con, read chapter 2. It is the same content edited to exclude any explicit non-con, though the intent remains clear enough)





	1. Explicit

**Author's Note:**

> My PTSD has me bad lately, and since Kahlia is one of my coping mechanisms, for the first time we see in no uncertain terms exactly what happened to Kahlia in The Pit. Like I mentioned in the summary, if you want to avoid the non-con and still get the story (there's a lot more to this than just the non-con), read chapter 2. Same story without that part. Or, if you'd like to avoid any mention of it, this story is divided into four distinct parts. Part 3 has the only non-con. Just skip it if you need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image commissioned from @vilemie on tumblr

Kahlia moved silently through the underbrush, bow strapped to her back and Tamlen three steps behind her. They were going hunting, she’d told him, but they both knew the truth. They were about two miles from camp when she whirled around and pressed him against a tree. His arms came around her just as their lips met. He moaned slightly at her aggressive affection and returned it.

“Weren’t you… supposed to be studying… with the master of Crafts today?” he asked her between kisses. Kahlia pressed herself a little closer to him, though she was already plastered to his front.

“I’d rather be here with you,” she told him, then resumed kissing him.

“I’d hoped… that was the case,” he whispered, then moaned as she rubbed their hips together. Chaste though she may be, Kahlia liked to think she was a master tease. Tamlen probably thought so.

For long minutes their kissing was interrupted by nothing more than the usual sounds of the forest. Tamlen’s hands rubbed up and down her sides, exposed by her armor. His thumbs teased at the beginning swell of her breasts before moving away. Kahlia had one hand wound into his sunshine hair and the other played across his chest, feeling the muscles of a hunter beneath his armor.

Finally, they had to separate to breathe. Kahlia rested her head on his shoulder and he held her close, still backed up against the tree. For a few moments they simply caught their breath.

“We should bond,” Tamlen said suddenly, his voice still rough with need. Kahlia stilled, then raised her head to look at him. She’d never been able to explain why, but she feared the thought of bonding with him. She knew it was expected of her, she knew he would be a good bond mate to her, but she couldn’t seem to make herself go through with it.

“Tamlen, we’re still so young,” she told him again, and felt their usual argument begin. “I’ve been eighteen for all of a month!”

“But we both have our Vallaslin. Technically, we could have bonded within days of when you got yours,” he said, and the argument was as valid as it was familiar, but it still didn’t change how she felt. If she kept putting it off like this, there was a chance that Tamlen would reject her entirely. She didn’t want that, no matter what the others might think about why she kept putting off her bonding. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to go through with it?” Tamlen asked, and she flinched. She’d been dreading the day when the old argument wouldn’t be enough and he’d ask that question. She still didn’t have an answer. She looked up at him, feeling lost, and he tucked a wayward strand of her unruly red hair behind her pointed ear.

“Lethalin,” she began, then stopped as she heard something behind them. Tamlen tensed as he heard it, too. Without another word, they broke apart and drew their bows, creeping soundlessly toward the rustling and breaking of branches.

“Humans,” Tamlen breathed in a whisper so soft only she would ever have a chance at hearing it.

“Three,” Kahlia confirmed in the same low tones, noting the one trailing behind the others. “What are they running from? It is as if Fen’Harel himself were on their scent.”

“It doesn’t matter; they’re heading for the camp!” Tamlen told her. Her eyes widened as she realized he was right.

“Head them off,” she whispered. “I’ll circle around and herd them to you.”

“Ma nuvenin,” he whispered, then ran off soundlessly to do just as she had instructed. Kahlia watched him go with a frown. She had a feeling that everything was about to change between them, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for it.

 

* * *

 

“Please, lethallan. I need you to end it. By your own hand.”

“I can’t…”

“Please! I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t fight the call much longer… End it!”

“Alright. I will do this… for you.”

“Thank you… I always loved you… Kahlia, I’m sorry.”

Kahlia had cried for weeks over Tamlen’s loss, but she hadn’t been alone; Zevran had held her whenever the sorrow hit hardest. He wouldn’t let her suffer alone. She had vague memories of speaking, of blurting out memories both painful and happy. She wasn’t sure what she had told him. She only knew that he had never mentioned it, not to her or anyone else, and he never judged her for it.

“You are a treasure,” she whispered to him as she lay on his chest, both of them naked. She’d thought he was asleep when she said it, but his arms tightened around her.

“Am I, then?” he asked, his voice low and dark with sleep and humor. Kahlia sighed. _Caught red-handed_ , she thought then smirked at the expression. “I wasn’t supposed to hear that, was I?” he asked when she remained silent. He chuckled and kissed her still-sweaty forehead. “Ever the shy one with affection, amor,” he murmured with pleased good humor. Kahlia winced, but he couldn’t possibly see it. She hadn’t been shy with affection in her clan, she remembered. But she wasn’t with her clan anymore. “It is no matter, preciosa, for I can provide enough affection for us both,” he told her lightly. He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers and softly kissed her lips. “Amor, preciosa, my dear, you are so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips between kisses. Finally she giggled, unable to contain it. He pulled back and pouted at her. “You find my affections amusing, amor?” he asked her with mock hurt. He sighed dramatically and fell back, flinging an arm over his face. “I am forever wounded by your rejections,” he declared, his voice muffled by his well-toned arm. Kahlia laughed again and bit his wrist. That got him to look at her. She grinned at him.

“You think I am shy?” she asked with a raised brow. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a lewd moan when she gripped his manhood where it lay pressed into her hip. She stroked him slowly until his eyes slid closed and his soft lips opened around panting breaths. Then she stilled her hand entirely. His eyes opened after a moment to beg her silently to continue; as unpracticed as she still was with sex and nudity in general, he made no secret of his love of her touch. He’d taught her what she didn’t know by instinct, and they were pretty good in bed together, if she did say so herself. “You think I withhold affection, emma lath?” she asked him. His pleasure-glazed eyes widened slightly at her words. Her hand continued its ministrations and he groaned. One hand reached out to cup her breast, his thumb flicking across her nipple. She increased her pace, squeezing him tightly at the base the way he liked best, and soon his eyes slid closed again. His other hand, the one he had flung across his face earlier, came to rest on her backside, where he kneaded the ample flesh he found there. Kahlia flexed, arching her back in such a way that her ass pressed into his hand at the same time that her breasts jutted forward to him. “You think I reject your affections, ma vhenan?” She gave a breathy chuckle, one she knew he liked the sound of, and his own breathing hitched in response. Her strokes grew faster, more demanding, until he was on the cusp of release, and then she stopped, took her hand away entirely. He cried out at the loss and clutched at her, but she just chuckled again. “Ne’emma lath,” she told him impulsively. “I am not shy.” Once his faced cleared of some of the pained frustration, he gripped her hips tightly and effortlessly lifted her up to toss her onto the pile of furs beside him. She gasped in surprise, then moaned in pleasure as he loomed over her and cradled his hips between her thighs.

Zevran’s eyes were narrowed with determination as he told her, “You are not shy like _that_ , preciosa.” Then he plunged into her body, making her cry out sharply. He muffled the noise with his mouth, swallowing the sounds she made as he took her hard and fast. Even with how close she’d brought him to the edge, he made certain she finished first, his technique careful and very skilled as he thrust. She watched him when he came, still riding the high of her own release. His hips stilled, his body went rigid, his mouth opened on a silent cry, and a look of pained ecstasy crossed his face as his narrowed eyes locked with hers. His pupils were blown wide, their dark depths nearly swallowing the honeyed ale of his irises. She felt each hot jet pump into her as he released, then he collapsed atop her, completely limp. She laughed breathlessly as she held him and stroked his hair gently.

“Ar lath ma,” she breathed against his skin, and felt both terrified and content when she realized that the words were true. She loved him in a way she had never loved anyone before, even Tamlen. Zevran pressed a kiss against her throat as they caught their breath together.

 

* * *

 

Kahlia bit her lip to keep pained whimpers from escaping and clenched her thighs tightly together. She wished the burning would stop, but it was always hours before it was over. Until then, all she could do was try to keep quiet. She was thirsty and hungry, but there was nothing she could do about that, just as there was nothing she could do about the burning agony inside her. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, shaming her, but this pain was beyond anything she’d known before.

Kahlia called this place The Pit because that was what it looked like; the cavern was tall, with a shaft that led all the way to unreachable daylight above her. There were several ways out of the cavern, but half of them meant taking carved stairs that overlooked the whole Pit. The others were all heavily guarded and about a quarter mile from where she was kept; there was a quarter mile of darkspawn between her and the nearest exit.

The dwarf had been crying with terror for the past two hours, and Kahlia wanted to tell her that tears would only make her thirsty and she wouldn’t want to drink what the darkspawn would give her. The poor girl had a casteless tattoo on her cheek but she’d been wearing fine, strong armor when she was brought in and Kahlia had known she was a member of the Legion of the Dead. The girl thought of herself as dead already, but Kahlia knew what sort of pain stood between her and the Beyond; there was no comfort she could offer the girl even if she dared to speak.

“Are you okay?” the dwarf whispered, and Kahlia’s eyes snapped to her face, wide and frightened. She shook her head minutely and tried to shush the girl, but she didn’t understand. “Maybe I can help.” Kahlia curled up as small as she could when she saw the shadow pass over her form, but the darkspawn wasn’t after her; it grabbed the dwarf beside her. The girl screamed in terror as it ripped away what remained of her clothing, and she kicked and fought until it hit her over the head and left her dazed but conscious. Kahlia prayed the girl would be hit again and lose consciousness entirely, but the darkspawn didn’t see the need to grant her that mercy. It ripped away her smallclothes and plunged into her unwilling body. She screamed again, this time in agony, and Kahlia squeezed her eyes shut against the horrible view. There was every possibility that the girl was chaste, and she knew damn well that her body wasn’t prepared for penetration; the same thing that was happening to the girl happened to her thrice daily, and the darkspawn never bothered with any form of lubrication to ease the friction.

This was the first time Kahlia hadn’t been alone in her position, and it was infinitely more horrible to hear what the darkspawn so often did to her happen to someone else. She couldn’t just lie there and hope she wasn’t next. She couldn’t just stay curled up and let it happen.

Ignoring the burning agony in her womb, Kahlia stretched out again and looked around. The other darkspawn were ignoring what was happening, uncaring. Kahlia reached a hand slowly across the ground until she fisted a large rock, then she slid nearer to the poor dwarven girl. When she was behind the darkspawn that was using her body she rose to her knees, then to a crouch. Without hesitating any longer, she raised the rock in her hand and brought it down on the beast’s head. It howled, drawing attention, but she hit it again and again. The rock was knocked out of her hand as it fought back, but she kept going, throwing punches and kicking it as the dwarf crawled away.

A scrap of clothing Kahlia still wore was snatched from behind her and nearly choked her as she was yanked off the darkspawn she’d been fighting by another. Beaten and bloody, it wrapped its hands around her throat and squeezed, pressing her back into the dirt. The other darkspawn grunted and shrieked at it, but Kahlia barely noticed. Its blood burned her throat and dripped onto her bare skin, burning like acid anywhere it touched her. But she was relieved. It was going to kill her for what she had done, provide release from this torture. She closed her eyes in acceptance and relief.

A moment later, the pressure on her throat was gone and her lungs filled with air so suddenly that she coughed. The beast that had been trying to kill her had been pulled off and thrown back into the crowd. The dwarf she’d tried to save was being used by a different darkspawn, but her screams were lost in the shrieks and grunts and growls of the darkspawn that surrounded her. One beast grabbed her arms and pinned them roughly to her back, forcing her to her knees and wrenching her shoulders. Another beast entered her from behind hard and fast enough to make her scream. A third gripped her jaw, its fingers keeping her mouth wide open by pressing on the joint of her jaw so hard she saw stars, then fed its cock into her mouth. She screamed against this new intrusion, tried to close her jaw to bite the thing, but its grip was merciless and she couldn’t get away. She thought for certain that when it spent it would kill her, the acid-like substance eating away her mouth and throat. It would be a horrible way to die, but at least she would die.

The beast that penetrated her from behind finished first and the burning agony of its seed lit her belly on fire. It was immediately replaced by another, and Kahlia’s eyes widened in horror as her body was violated all over again. She was to die with her body still being used? Would they continue to use it after she was dead?

Except that she wasn’t dying, because when the beast in her mouth was ready to spend it pulled away from her and its seed puddled on the dirt beside her. It didn’t release her jaw, however, and another beast took its place at her front. This one thrust into her mouth so hard it choked her, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the whole experience.

 _Zevran, think of Zevran,_ she told herself, but her efforts were nearly ruined by the pain in her body. Zevran would never hurt her like this. _Zevran would never do anything I didn’t want him to._ So instead of trying to pretend she was with Zevran, which was an effort doomed to fail, she lost herself in softer memories. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself wrapped in his embrace as she cried over Tamlen’s death. She remembered nights spent simply holding each other, his warm hands smoothing up and down her back. She remembered his grin when she presented him with the Antivan boots she’d stumbled across and the pleasure he’d felt when he put them on and found that they fit. She remembered his look of confusion as she slipped him the silver bar she’d found, a look he’d worn the entire rest of the day. He’d approached her in the morning, confusion still in place, and asked her why she’d given it to him. She’d simply smiled and slipped a gold bar into his hand. His confusion had cleared, though she hadn’t said a word, and he’d pressed a solemn kiss to her hand. She’d been worried that he would leave her after she’d given him enough of the universal currency, but if anything he’d cleaved to her.

“I am yours,” he’d whispered, his voice low and sincere and beautiful. His eyes had traced the point of her right ear, where the gold earring he’d given her rested in its new piercing. His lips had followed his gaze, though he was careful not to hurt her, kissing and licking the length of her ear. She’d shivered in his arms as he thanked her for her appreciation of his gift.

“You are your own,” she’d whispered, her voice as unsteady as the rest of her, and his lips had claimed hers in a searing kiss.

Unbidden and unexpected, as a third round of darkspawn used her body, Kahlia remembered Zevran’s final words to her.

“I love you, Kahlia. Please, I beg you. Come back to me when it is over.” He’d said it as they parted ways in front of Denerim’s gate. She wondered, as the agony bled into a startling sort of numbness, if she wouldn’t have been taken by what remained of the darkspawn horde if she’d brought him with her.

 _He thinks I’m dead,_ she realized as the beasts finally finished with her and she collapsed, prone, on the dirt. One kicked her ribs for good measure, but she didn’t even feel it. _They all think I’m dead. They must, especially with how many others must have died on that tower._

In determination, Kahlia forced her eyes open. She would _not_ die in The Pit, she decided. She would stay alive and wait for an opportunity to get free. She had to see him again, tell him she was alive and she loved him. She would always love him.

After a short while, the pain forced Kahlia into blessed unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

At first, she thought it was simply more darkspawn she sensed coming at the tunnel from one of the upper passages. She sensed the taint and the expectation in the beasts around her. It wasn’t entirely unusual for them to leave and come back. She didn’t know anymore what they did when they left, if she ever had, and she didn’t much care. She was enjoying a moment of coveted peace from the beasts around her.

Then she realized it wasn’t darkspawn she sensed in the tunnels; it was Grey Wardens. There were maybe a dozen of them, she thought, but the distance between each Warden she sensed suggested that their numbers were bolstered somehow, perhaps by the Legion of the Dead. She lifted her head slightly to peer in the direction of the upper passages of The Pit, hoping maybe they would let her die as the beasts did not.

 _No, I can’t die. Not yet. I need…_ But she couldn’t remember. She was clinging tightly to some purpose half forgotten, but it compelled her even more than her desire for an end did. She would not die in The Pit.

Dwarves and humans together swarmed into The Pit, killing anything in their way that didn’t kill them first, and the beasts shrieked in panic. Even as the sound threatened to make her ears bleed, she smiled at their fear and pain. They abandoned her, lying prone and still beside one of the many fires the beasts had built, to fight the invaders and defend their territory. For the first time since she had woken in The Pit, she was left alone.

As the fight raged on the other side of The Pit, she raised her head. Behind her was one of the passages out of The Pit, and she knew she had to reach it. She’d never have another opportunity like this, and she couldn’t take the chance that those fighting the beasts would kill her, either by mistake or design. She struggled to sit up, then to her knees. There she rested briefly, panting hard from the effort. She was injured all over, cuts and burns and broken bones both fresh and old made movement agony, but she was determined. She couldn’t let this opportunity pass her by.

Somehow, she made it to her feet and staggered toward the tunnel. She snagged a blanket as she passed a beast’s bed and wrapped it around her nudity, tucking it snugly around her. She made it to the tunnel and staggered against the wall, hardly able to believe that she had actually left The Pit. A glance behind her showed that her escape had not yet been noticed, but she knew she had to move fast; the attack would last only so long. She shambled along, one hand on the tunnel wall to support her as she fled. She escaped The Pit, a fire in her heart that had nothing to do with the acid burns of the beasts’ fluids. She had somewhere to be, someone to find, a purpose guiding her and keeping her alive and relatively sane. She would find what she needed once she was away.


	2. Edited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited version to avoid the explicit non-con

Kahlia moved silently through the underbrush, bow strapped to her back and Tamlen three steps behind her. They were going hunting, she’d told him, but they both knew the truth. They were about two miles from camp when she whirled around and pressed him against a tree. His arms came around her just as their lips met. He moaned slightly at her aggressive affection and returned it.

“Weren’t you… supposed to be studying… with the master of Crafts today?” he asked her between kisses. Kahlia pressed herself a little closer to him, though she was already plastered to his front.

“I’d rather be here with you,” she told him, then resumed kissing him.

“I’d hoped… that was the case,” he whispered, then moaned as she rubbed their hips together. Chaste though she may be, Kahlia liked to think she was a master tease. Tamlen probably thought so.

For long minutes their kissing was interrupted by nothing more than the usual sounds of the forest. Tamlen’s hands rubbed up and down her sides, exposed by her armor. His thumbs teased at the beginning swell of her breasts before moving away. Kahlia had one hand wound into his sunshine hair and the other played across his chest, feeling the muscles of a hunter beneath his armor.

Finally, they had to separate to breathe. Kahlia rested her head on his shoulder and he held her close, still backed up against the tree. For a few moments they simply caught their breath.

“We should bond,” Tamlen said suddenly, his voice still rough with need. Kahlia stilled, then raised her head to look at him. She’d never been able to explain why, but she feared the thought of bonding with him. She knew it was expected of her, she knew he would be a good bond mate to her, but she couldn’t seem to make herself go through with it.

“Tamlen, we’re still so young,” she told him again, and felt their usual argument begin. “I’ve been eighteen for all of a month!”

“But we both have our Vallaslin. Technically, we could have bonded within days of when you got yours,” he said, and the argument was as valid as it was familiar, but it still didn’t change how she felt. If she kept putting it off like this, there was a chance that Tamlen would reject her entirely. She didn’t want that, no matter what the others might think about why she kept putting off her bonding. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to go through with it?” Tamlen asked, and she flinched. She’d been dreading the day when the old argument wouldn’t be enough and he’d ask that question. She still didn’t have an answer. She looked up at him, feeling lost, and he tucked a wayward strand of her unruly red hair behind her pointed ear.

“Lethalin,” she began, then stopped as she heard something behind them. Tamlen tensed as he heard it, too. Without another word, they broke apart and drew their bows, creeping soundlessly toward the rustling and breaking of branches.

“Humans,” Tamlen breathed in a whisper so soft only she would ever have a chance at hearing it.

“Three,” Kahlia confirmed in the same low tones, noting the one trailing behind the others. “What are they running from? It is as if Fen’Harel himself were on their scent.”

“It doesn’t matter; they’re heading for the camp!” Tamlen told her. Her eyes widened as she realized he was right.

“Head them off,” she whispered. “I’ll circle around and herd them to you.”

“Ma nuvenin,” he whispered, then ran off soundlessly to do just as she had instructed. Kahlia watched him go with a frown. She had a feeling that everything was about to change between them, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for it.

 

***

“Please, lethallan. I need you to end it. By your own hand.”

“I can’t…”

“Please! I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t fight the call much longer… End it!”

“Alright. I will do this… for you.”

“Thank you… I always loved you… Kahlia, I’m sorry.”

Kahlia had cried for weeks over Tamlen’s loss, but she hadn’t been alone; Zevran had held her whenever the sorrow hit hardest. He wouldn’t let her suffer alone. She had vague memories of speaking, of blurting out memories both painful and happy. She wasn’t sure what she had told him. She only knew that he had never mentioned it, not to her or anyone else, and he never judged her for it.

“You are a treasure,” she whispered to him as she lay on his chest, both of them naked. She’d thought he was asleep when she said it, but his arms tightened around her.

“Am I, then?” he asked, his voice low and dark with sleep and humor. Kahlia sighed. _Caught red-handed_ , she thought then smirked at the expression. “I wasn’t supposed to hear that, was I?” he asked when she remained silent. He chuckled and kissed her still-sweaty forehead. “Ever the shy one with affection, amor,” he murmured with pleased good humor. Kahlia winced, but he couldn’t possibly see it. She hadn’t been shy with affection in her clan, she remembered. But she wasn’t with her clan anymore. “It is no matter, preciosa, for I can provide enough affection for us both,” he told her lightly. He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers and softly kissed her lips. “Amor, preciosa, my dear, you are so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips between kisses. Finally she giggled, unable to contain it. He pulled back and pouted at her. “You find my affections amusing, amor?” he asked her with mock hurt. He sighed dramatically and fell back, flinging an arm over his face. “I am forever wounded by your rejections,” he declared, his voice muffled by his well-toned arm. Kahlia laughed again and bit his wrist. That got him to look at her. She grinned at him.

“You think I am shy?” she asked with a raised brow. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a lewd moan when she gripped his manhood where it lay pressed into her hip. She stroked him slowly until his eyes slid closed and his soft lips opened around panting breaths. Then she stilled her hand entirely. His eyes opened after a moment to beg her silently to continue; as unpracticed as she still was with sex and nudity in general, he made no secret of his love of her touch. He’d taught her what she didn’t know by instinct, and they were pretty good in bed together, if she did say so herself. “You think I withhold affection, emma lath?” she asked him. His pleasure-glazed eyes widened slightly at her words. Her hand continued its ministrations and he groaned. One hand reached out to cup her breast, his thumb flicking across her nipple. She increased her pace, squeezing him tightly at the base the way he liked best, and soon his eyes slid closed again. His other hand, the one he had flung across his face earlier, came to rest on her backside, where he kneaded the ample flesh he found there. Kahlia flexed, arching her back in such a way that her ass pressed into his hand at the same time that her breasts jutted forward to him. “You think I reject your affections, ma vhenan?” She gave a breathy chuckle, one she knew he liked the sound of, and his own breathing hitched in response. Her strokes grew faster, more demanding, until he was on the cusp of release, and then she stopped, took her hand away entirely. He cried out at the loss and clutched at her, but she just chuckled again. “Ne’emma lath,” she told him impulsively. “I am not shy.” Once his faced cleared of some of the pained frustration, he gripped her hips tightly and effortlessly lifted her up to toss her onto the pile of furs beside him. She gasped in surprise, then moaned in pleasure as he loomed over her and cradled his hips between her thighs.

Zevran’s eyes were narrowed with determination as he told her, “You are not shy like _that_ , preciosa.” Then he plunged into her body, making her cry out sharply. He muffled the noise with his mouth, swallowing the sounds she made as he took her hard and fast. Even with how close she’d brought him to the edge, he made certain she finished first, his technique careful and very skilled as he thrust. She watched him when he came, still riding the high of her own release. His hips stilled, his body went rigid, his mouth opened on a silent cry, and a look of pained ecstasy crossed his face as his narrowed eyes locked with hers. His pupils were blown wide, their dark depths nearly swallowing the honeyed ale of his irises. She felt each hot jet pump into her as he released, then he collapsed atop her, completely limp. She laughed breathlessly as she held him and stroked his hair gently.

“Ar lath ma,” she breathed against his skin, and felt both terrified and content when she realized that the words were true. She loved him in a way she had never loved anyone before, even Tamlen. Zevran pressed a kiss against her throat as they caught their breath together.

 

***

Kahlia bit her lip to keep pained whimpers from escaping and clenched her thighs tightly together. She wished the burning would stop, but it was always hours before it was over. Until then, all she could do was try to keep quiet. She was thirsty and hungry, but there was nothing she could do about that, just as there was nothing she could do about the burning agony inside her. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, shaming her, but this pain was beyond anything she’d known before.

Kahlia called this place The Pit because that was what it looked like; the cavern was tall, with a shaft that led all the way to unreachable daylight above her. There were several ways out of the cavern, but half of them meant taking carved stairs that overlooked the whole Pit. The others were all heavily guarded and about a quarter mile from where she was kept; there was a quarter mile of darkspawn between her and the nearest exit.

The dwarf had been crying with terror for the past two hours, and Kahlia wanted to tell her that tears would only make her thirsty and she wouldn’t want to drink what the darkspawn would give her. The poor girl had a casteless tattoo on her cheek but she’d been wearing fine, strong armor when she was brought in and Kahlia had known she was a member of the Legion of the Dead. The girl thought of herself as dead already, but Kahlia knew what sort of pain stood between her and the Beyond; there was no comfort she could offer the girl even if she dared to speak.

“Are you okay?” the dwarf whispered, and Kahlia’s eyes snapped to her face, wide and frightened. She shook her head minutely and tried to shush the girl, but she didn’t understand. “Maybe I can help.” Kahlia curled up as small as she could when she saw the shadow pass over her form, but the darkspawn wasn’t after her; it grabbed the dwarf beside her. The girl screamed in terror and kicked and fought until it hit her over the head and left her dazed but conscious. Kahlia prayed the girl would be hit again and lose consciousness entirely, but the darkspawn didn’t see the need to grant her that mercy. She screamed in agony and Kahlia squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out what was happening to the dwarf.

This was the first time Kahlia hadn’t been alone in her position, and it was infinitely more horrible to hear what the darkspawn so often did to her happen to someone else. She couldn’t just lie there and hope she wasn’t next. She couldn’t just stay curled up and let it happen.

Ignoring the burning agony in her body, Kahlia stretched out again and looked around. The other darkspawn were ignoring what was happening, uncaring. Kahlia reached a hand slowly across the ground until she fisted a large rock, then she slid nearer to the poor dwarven girl. When she was behind the darkspawn that held the girl she rose to her knees, then to a crouch. Without hesitating any longer, she raised the rock in her hand and brought it down on the beast’s head. It howled, drawing attention, but she hit it again and again. The rock was knocked out of her hand as it fought back, but she kept going, throwing punches and kicking it as the dwarf crawled away.

Kahlia was snatched from behind her and nearly choked as she was yanked off the darkspawn she’d been fighting by another. Beaten and bloody, it wrapped its hands around her throat and squeezed, pressing her back into the dirt. The other darkspawn grunted and shrieked at it, but Kahlia barely noticed. Its blood burned her throat and dripped onto her bare skin, burning like acid anywhere it touched her. But she was relieved. It was going to kill her for what she had done, provide release from this torture. She closed her eyes in acceptance and relief.

A moment later, the pressure on her throat was gone and her lungs filled with air so suddenly that she coughed. The beast that had been trying to kill her had been pulled off and thrown back into the crowd. The dwarf she’d tried to save was screaming somewhere in the crowd of darkspawn around her, and Kahlia knew that her efforts to help the girl had failed.

As silently as she could, Kahlia endured the horrific punishment the darkspawn gave her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the whole experience, wishing for oblivion.

 _Zevran, think of Zevran,_ she told herself, but her efforts were nearly ruined by the pain in her body. Zevran would never hurt her like this. _Zevran would never do anything I didn’t want him to._ So instead of trying to pretend she was with Zevran, which was an effort doomed to fail, she lost herself in softer memories. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself wrapped in his embrace as she cried over Tamlen’s death. She remembered nights spent simply holding each other, his warm hands smoothing up and down her back. She remembered his grin when she presented him with the Antivan boots she’d stumbled across and the pleasure he’d felt when he put them on and found that they fit. She remembered his look of confusion as she slipped him the silver bar she’d found, a look he’d worn the entire rest of the day. He’d approached her in the morning, confusion still in place, and asked her why she’d given it to him. She’d simply smiled and slipped a gold bar into his hand. His confusion had cleared, though she hadn’t said a word, and he’d pressed a solemn kiss to her hand. She’d been worried that he would leave her after she’d given him enough of the universal currency, but if anything he’d cleaved to her.

“I am yours,” he’d whispered, his voice low and sincere and beautiful. His eyes had traced the point of her right ear, where the gold earring he’d given her rested in its new piercing. His lips had followed his gaze, though he was careful not to hurt her, kissing and licking the length of her ear. She’d shivered in his arms as he thanked her for her appreciation of his gift.

“You are your own,” she’d whispered, her voice as unsteady as the rest of her, and his lips had claimed hers in a searing kiss.

Unbidden and unexpected, Kahlia remembered Zevran’s final words to her.

“I love you, Kahlia. Please, I beg you. Come back to me when it is over.” He’d said it as they parted ways in front of Denerim’s gate. She wondered, as the agony bled into a startling sort of numbness, if she wouldn’t have been taken by what remained of the darkspawn horde if she’d brought him with her.

 _He thinks I’m dead,_ she realized as the beasts finally finished with her and she collapsed, prone, on the dirt. One kicked her ribs for good measure, but she didn’t even feel it. _They all think I’m dead. They must, especially with how many others must have died on that tower._

In determination, Kahlia forced her eyes open. She would _not_ die in The Pit, she decided. She would stay alive and wait for an opportunity to get free. She had to see him again, tell him she was alive and she loved him. She would always love him.

After a short while, the returning pain forced Kahlia into blessed unconsciousness.

 

***

At first, she thought it was simply more darkspawn she sensed coming at the tunnel from one of the upper passages. She sensed the taint and the expectation in the beasts around her. It wasn’t entirely unusual for them to leave and come back. She didn’t know anymore what they did when they left, if she ever had, and she didn’t much care. She was enjoying a moment of coveted peace from the beasts around her.

Then she realized it wasn’t darkspawn she sensed in the tunnels; it was Grey Wardens. There were maybe a dozen of them, she thought, but the distance between each Warden she sensed suggested that their numbers were bolstered somehow, perhaps by the Legion of the Dead. She lifted her head slightly to peer in the direction of the upper passages of The Pit, hoping maybe they would let her die as the beasts did not.

 _No, I can’t die. Not yet. I need…_ But she couldn’t remember. She was clinging tightly to some purpose half forgotten, but it compelled her even more than her desire for an end did. She would not die in The Pit.

Dwarves and humans together swarmed into The Pit, killing anything in their way that didn’t kill them first, and the beasts shrieked in panic. Even as the sound threatened to make her ears bleed, she smiled at their fear and pain. They abandoned her, lying prone and still beside one of the many fires the beasts had built, to fight the invaders and defend their territory. For the first time since she had woken in The Pit, she was left alone.

As the fight raged on the other side of The Pit, she raised her head. Behind her was one of the passages out of The Pit, and she knew she had to reach it. She’d never have another opportunity like this, and she couldn’t take the chance that those fighting the beasts would kill her, either by mistake or design. She struggled to sit up, then to her knees. There she rested briefly, panting hard from the effort. She was injured all over, cuts and burns and broken bones both fresh and old made movement agony, but she was determined. She couldn’t let this opportunity pass her by.

Somehow, she made it to her feet and staggered toward the tunnel. She snagged a blanket as she passed a beast’s bed and wrapped it around her nudity, tucking it snugly around her. She made it to the tunnel and staggered against the wall, hardly able to believe that she had actually left The Pit. A glance behind her showed that her escape had not yet been noticed, but she knew she had to move fast; the attack would last only so long. She shambled along, one hand on the tunnel wall to support her as she fled. She escaped The Pit, a fire in her heart that had nothing to do with the acid burns of the beasts’ fluids. She had somewhere to be, someone to find, a purpose guiding her and keeping her alive and relatively sane. She would find what she needed once she was away.


End file.
